A Little Friendly Wager
by bluekrishna
Summary: Written for UrbanSpaceman's March Writing Competition on Aria's Afterlife. A day in the life of Barla Von. He's no biotic god, but the way he keeps topping the charts at the Armax Arsenal Arena bespeaks a certain . . . badassery.


"Who has the . . . _hgkh_ . . . balls?" Anger coiled in his guts like serpents as he stared up at the scoreboard. His name, in neat, white letters, graced the screen not in first or second as he'd expected, but _third_!

Barla Von looked around in accusation, as though the whole of Armax was responsible for this affront. Then, his eye found the top name and he hissed, "Shepard?"

That human Spectre the Shadow Broker had become so fond of? The volus had met Shepard a few times and other than noticing how the man lived a charmed life and always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, hadn't been all that impressed.

In fact, as one who regularly dealt with the canniest and most devious agents in the galaxy, Barla Von looked at the Spectre and suspected him to be a bit of a dullard. No person with any sort of intelligence would keep bashing their head against the stodgy bureaucratic wall of the Council. Or work for as unstable and disorganized an entity as Cerberus.

Barla Von crossed his arms over his barreled chest and glared in frustration at the scores.

"Seems we have another contender for the top score, Von." A voice, deep, but feminine heralded the arrival of his only rival at this game. The best rival he'd ever had, actually.

He didn't bother to reply as he turned to the tall asari who slid into the space next to him. Aria T'Loak looked down at him with a painted, haughty sneer. Her eyes glittered in icy humor. It looked all too good on her. Not that he'd ever tell her that.

"Might make the results of our wager a little . . . _complicated_," mused Aria. "We could call the whole thing off." A tiny bit of hope rode the undercurrents in her tone.

"One might suspect that you're trying to . . . _hgkh_ . . . wheedle your way out of doing as we agreed should you lose." The volus gave her a steady stare. "I _will_ win, Aria. Be ready to give me . . . _hgkh_ . . . what I asked for."

Aria harrumphed and shifted to her other hip. "If I'd known how _seriously_ you'd take this whole thing, I wouldn't have agreed to such a deal."

"You mean, you underestimated me." Barla Von drew himself up to his entire four foot six inches worth of height. "I made a career out of people . . . _hgkh_ . . . underestimating me."

"Carved out of their very flesh, no doubt," she responded in wry tones. The corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk as she peered down at him sidelong. "And you will only win if you can top the chart by the end of today."

Barla Von waved a hand at the scores above them. "The margin . . . _hgkh_ . . . is narrow and I have not yet begun to bring my full prowess to bear."

Aria laughed. "Volus 'prowess.' Two words that never made acquaintance before today, I suspect."

The volus smiled a smile of predatory cunning. If Aria could see it, she might not feel so unassailable in her fortress of frigidity. Barla Von said, his tone salacious, "A preconception I will take immense . . . _hgkh_ . . . pleasure in destroying once I win."

The asari's hand fell onto his head and despite himself, Von shivered as he imagined it touching his bare flesh. Impossible, but that didn't mean the desire wasn't there.

Aria's smirk grew wider as she felt him tremble under her hand. "Your prize might not be as gratifying as you imagine. Are you sure you want to marry me?"

He stared up at her. Even through the mask, the heat of his gaze took her aback. Was that a slight darkening along the pirate queen's cheeks? He gloated over that tiny concession. "As sure as you would love to know . . . _hgkh_ . . . the identity of the Shadow Broker should _you_ win."

His tone told her he found the possibility highly unlikely.

The playful veneer fell off her face. He entertained the fanciful notion of it falling to the ground at her feet and shattering into a hundred million jagged pieces. She rallied with superb quickness. But then, she wouldn't be who she was if she could be put so off-balance for long.

Aria, deposed ruler of Omega, snarled, "I _will_ beat you, little man."

"We shall see . . . _hgkh_ . . . at the end of the day." He caught her hand as she made to storm away. Aria swung back, outraged that he dared touch her. Barla Von kept hold of her hand and said, stern and implacable, "Then, I _will_ claim my bounty."

"You couldn't handle my special attentions, Von. I'd chew you up and spit what's left of you out." Aria leaned down until her face and his lay only inches apart. She spat her words, furious, "A whole vat of medi-gel wouldn't fix what I'd do to you in my bed."

"What makes you think I wouldn't . . . _hgkh_ . . . like it?" he replied. Then, he laughed when a glimmer of shock stilled her features. His hand reached up and trailed gloved fingers along her jaw. His thumb traced the shape of her full lips. "Or crave it, even?"

Aria stood straight with a jerk. She considered him for a long time before saying, "A bit twisted, are we?"

"Is that not why we . . . _hgkh_ . . . have found such an accord?" he asked her, tone dry. "Why you seek me alone out for information on your precious Omega? Because we have . . . _hgkh_ . . . common interests?"

Her cold eyes narrowed, but her mouth quirked into a genuine smile. He wondered which he should believe. She spun on her heel and said over her shoulder, "You'd best bring all of that 'prowess' to bear, Von. And should you win, I hope you live long enough to regret it."

Barla Von didn't move to stop her this time, just enjoyed watching her flounce away. All that vicious and overwhelming confidence. The crowds parted before her like magic. He spoke to her retreating back, under his breath, "Aria, my dear, regret is the furthest thing from my mind."

Then he, too, strode out of the Armax Arsenal Arena, to gather his team and win their little game once and for all.

* * *

"Take all the handicaps, he said. It'll be fun, he said." The salarian crouched next to him threw his shoulders up and down in a disgusted little shrug.

"We got this," Barla Von peered over their bit of cover to mark their enemies' positions. "Get your . . . _hgkh_ . . . turrets in position, Yog. Drones, grenades, everything."

"And me?" said the lean human merc on his other side.

"Draw them to that platform over there . . . _hgkh_ . . .. Post up and pick them off." The volus jerked a thumb, indicating the area he meant.

"And where will you be?" said Yog, scowling.

Barla Von pulled out his twin Paladins. "Doing a little hunting."

He sprinted around their cover, not bothering to duck. One advantage of his being so short, most of the cover still _covered_ him. His legs pumped, fast in the lower gravity of the Citadel. Behind his mask, he grinned when the sounds of explosions filled the arena. Shouts from the opposition told him that they moved in that direction, away from him and his little flanking maneuver.

A stray round popped his shields. He rolled behind some crates and took stock. Peering around the cover, he saw their backs as they assaulted his team's now-fortified position. He hummed in satisfaction and took aim.

He squeezed off four rounds and watched four heads explode down there. Cries of alarm went up as the other team figured out his ploy. Far too late. A warm chuckle rolled out of him as he and his squadmates destroyed the wave of "Cerberus" troopers in the next few seconds.

Reaching out to snatch up some heatsinks, he kept a wary eye for the next spawn point. The last wave.

Red light flooded the area around him, lighting circles on the ground at his feet. His breath caught. "Shit."

In a burst of movement, Von bolted behind some cover just as targeting chevrons filled his HUD. He cursed his luck as the enemy spawned not ten feet away and immediately started pounding his hiding spot with the bulk of their firepower. Trapped and separated from his team, he could only cringe and hope Yog and Tyro saw his dilemma and dug him out.

Something small flew over the wall into his lap. He stared at the blinking red light on it for a moment before the realization of what it was galvanized him into action. Catching it in a hand, he flicked it back over the barrier. The grenade went off less than five feet from him. Its force hammered into him, even through the wall, nearly sending him flying.

Dizzy and disoriented, Von leaned against the plasteel bit of cover and shook his head. He bent his will to regain focus and leaned out through the smoky haze. Helmeted heads turned this way and that in the fog. He unloaded his whole payload into them. Pained shouts informed him that he hit more times than he missed.

"I'm at your six!" said a familiar and very welcome voice behind him. Yog's drone flew past his head and peppered the remaining Cerberus troops.

When Von leaned out again, having reloaded, a tall, white wall slammed into his face. Reeling back, the volus grunted in pain. Booted feet peeked out from under the shield. A Sentinel.

Snarling, Von hooked his left-hand pistol around the edge of the shield and gave a mighty yank. Pulled off balance, the Sentinel stumbled forward and tried to draw back, but the volus slipped behind the man's meager protection and planted a boot into the back of his knee. The Cerberus trooper went down. Von put his gun to the trooper's head and squeezed the trigger. Point-blank, the cranium before him exploded.

Barla Von braced himself for the shower of gore and felt a mild surprise when it completely failed to pelt him. Then he frowned as he remembered the whole thing was a simulation and he fought holograms, not real people. Cunning bit of artifice, this.

"Uh, little help?" Tyro called from behind. The volus spun to find his sniper pinned by an Atlas. The giant powered armor lumbered toward the human's hiding spot, blasting away periodically to keep the merc from running to a more defensible position. Von exchanged looks with Yog. They broke into a run at the same time, Von keeping up despite his shorter legs.

Yog dropped a turret right behind the Atlas. Von dodged between its legs and fired upwards into its crotch, if it had a crotch anyway. The thing danced as it tried to bring this new threat into its heavy weapon's reticle. Von kept himself under it, in its blind spot. It reached with one clawed hand, but he swayed away from it with ease.

Unable to get at him, the Atlas instead turned to face the turret. Yog posted up some ways off, launching drone after drone. Their efforts seemed to do naught but annoy the thing as it crushed the turret in one fist and laid about with its guns.

Von cursed as he ran out of heatsinks. And he couldn't go for more without leaving the little haven he'd found. The sound of cracking glass above him gave him an idea.

An omniblade flicked out of his wrist, glowing a baleful orange. From his vantage point, Von could just see the catch on the driver's hatch. Timing it carefully with the Atlas' heavy swings, Von thrust upwards. The 'blade bit deep into the pilot canopy's locking mechanism. The volus gave a vicious wiggle of his knife, then threw his weight back to ply it with leverage.

It popped open with a hiss. Von heard the dismayed cry of the pilot. The Atlas seemed to pause in confusion. Never one to squander opportunity, Barla Von jumped and grabbed at the edge of the open hatch with one hand, then pulled himself up, reaching out with his other hand.

He caught the edge of the pilot's armored cowl and pulled. The trooper fell out. The Atlas went still, deactivated. Von let go of the machine and landed on the trooper elbow first. All of the air whooshed out of the man's lungs. Not giving the pilot any time to react, Von grabbed him by the throat and squeezed.

Squeezed and squeezed until the trooper's insane flailing ceased and the body went limp under him.

_A very convincing illusion_, he thought as he dropped the "man" to the ground and watched him disappear. The rest of the hologram flickered out of existence around them. Von heard the jubilant shouts of the crowd watching. How strange he hadn't noticed it before.

His squad came to stand beside him as the score tallied above their heads on the humong-o-tron, along with captured snippets of the battle. Von watched himself running and shooting his way across the map and grinned in pride.

And still, the scores climbed. Yog and Tyro cheered as it blew past their previous high-score, and clapped the volus on his back.

Von stifled a cheer of his own as it bounded beyond what that blasted human Spectre had achieved. Victory assured, Von turned back to his fellows and exchanged pleased fistbumps. The scoreboard pinged and he looked back to take note of the final score. Nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-eight.

Smug, he looked around. No one had ever scored so high. Triumph flooded through his body as they made their way out of the arena.

Aria, geared to the nines for battle, met him in the lobby. His fellows scampered away. They'd never felt comfortable in Aria's presence. She watched them go with a smug smirk.

Von jerked a thumb at the scoreboard. "Good luck beating that."

"Oh, I tried already. I just got done with my bout in Arena Three." Aria quirked a brow at him, then nodded herself at the board. "As you can see, I topped out at just over nine thou."

"Ready to admit . . . _hgkh_ . . . defeat?" He sidled up to her.

"Per-" The loud cheering of the crowds above them drowned her out. They looked around in bafflement. It sounded like the mob had gone insane up there.

Feeling the touch of the ominous, Von turned slowly back to the scoreboard and watched with helpless trepidation as the latest match's number climbed and climbed. They sped upwards so fast, the numbers blurred.

A siren cut through the whole arena as the tally solidified. A roaring filled Von's ears as he stared at that final count. Four nines glowed bright white and huge over the other numbers.

And the name next to them? Barla Von spat, "Shepard."

One of the arena doors opened and out popped the owner of that moniker, followed by a turian and a quarian. Von's mind supplied names: Garrus Vakarian, C-Sec officer turned vigilante turned Heirarchy Advisor. Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, youngest admiral in quarian history.

The human turned to his companions and smiled the smile of the simple and inane, all teeth and no intelligence. "Great game, you guys! Hey, next time, let's do it on insanity!"

To their good-natured groans, Shepard laughed, all the while herding them out of the building. Back to their ship, Von assumed.

Von's amazed, incredulous eye drew back to the score, then once again landed on the human's retreating back.

"Maybe you should try proposing to _him_?" said Aria to his right, her voice filled with an unfamiliar emotion. Something like awe, of the grudging sort.

Barla Von shot her a disbelieving look, catching her wide eyes. Her surprise that mirrored his. A laugh yanked itself out of his throat, followed by a whole string of them.

Aria laughed with him. Their mirth rang through the space, getting louder and more uncontrollable the longer it went on.

Finally, they subsided. Their fit of laughter died down to just a few chuckles as they looked at one another, helpless in the face of fate's strange sense of humor.

The pirate queen of Omega gave a jerk of her regal head. "C'mon, I know where we can get a decent drink."

Giving her a dubious look, Von dropped into step at her side, quickening his stride to match hers automatically. "Feeling social?"

"Hey, neither of us won. Neither of us got what we wanted. If there was ever a time to get inebriated, I'd say it's now." She hummed in amusement.

"Just so you know . . . _hgkh_ . . . I don't put out on the first date." He smiled to hear her laugh again.

And just like that, she seemed back to her normal cold self. She looked at him askance and pursed her lips. "Wanna bet?"

"Depends," he shot back, with a magnanimous wave. "What's your wager?"


End file.
